


In the absence of reality

by venusbits



Series: Want you so hard [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Owl Jokes, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:37:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusbits/pseuds/venusbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keiji isn't willing to jeopardize his friendship with Bokuto by admitting his feelings. The next best thing is to resort to his imagination to get off, even if it means using his best friend's image to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the absence of reality

**Author's Note:**

> In the absence of reality...
> 
> ...imagination will have to do

Keiji entered his room and sighed, rubbing his cheeks between his palms. He unceremoniously dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed at his desk. His whole body felt heavy; his arms arched from the extra hours of practice with Bokuto, his legs twinged as the muscles cooled down after being active for so long. Not that Keiji was really complaining, since all the extra practice meant spending more time with Bokuto, and he'd never turn down that opportunity. Under the guise of “getting ready for Nationals”, he'd successfully monopolized Bokuto's attention for nearly five hours. Bokuto was always happy to stay back, rolling his shoulders and demanding tosses.

All the extra practice did mean he scrambled to finish his homework on time. With another sigh, he reached over to grab a textbook from his bag. He tapped his pen against his chin, scowling at his book. Who needed math in real life, anyway? Surely he could do without knowing algebraic formulas and differentiation.

It took less than an hour for Keiji to slam his pen down in disgust. His body was too jittery to work; his leg bounced, his arm twitched with every stroke of his pen. Despite the workout he'd gotten after school, he was still too full of _movement_ , like Bokuto's energy had infected him and settled in his bones. At least he could redirect Bokuto's endless energy into volleyball; he couldn't get rid of his own the same way.

But there was one way he _could_ use Bokuto to get rid of his restlessness. Keiji nibbled his bottom lip and stared at the homework in front of him. Nothing was sinking into his brain, and he was sure he'd screwed up all the questions he'd managed to answer. It was easy to convince himself to give up.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head and feeling his shoulders click. He wasn't accomplishing anything sitting at his desk. May as well relieve the tension radiating through his body.

Locking the door, since he couldn't guarantee the house would stay empty, he took off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His pants soon joined it, leaving him standing in nothing but his boxers. Slipping a finger underneath the waistband, he pulled it taut, before letting it snap back against his hips. Keiji stroked the stinging skin, soothing, before repeating the motion. His thoughts always went to Bokuto when he did this, like a fixation. Would Bokuto taunt him like this? Inflict the barest hint of pain, and then soothe it, driving Keiji insane with the balance of pleasure and pain? Keiji would be lying if he said he didn't want it. Badly.

When his hips tingled from the repeated slap of elastic, Keiji dropped the boxers and moved back to the bed. His bed was soft, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sank down onto it. Lying on his back, his head resting on his pillow and his legs bent at the knee, Keiji shifted position until he was comfortable. His toes curled into the sheets, pushing them to the end of the bed. The sheets were cool underneath his heated skin.

His mind chanted _you shouldn't be doing this, you should be doing your homework. What kind of person jerks off to his best friend?_

Apparently, he did. Images of Bokuto in motion flashed behind his eyelids; the smooth flex and contraction of muscle, the flash of pale thigh between his shorts and his kneepads, the wicked, predatory look in his golden eyes when he spiked one of Keiji's tosses.

Keiji ran a hand through his hair, letting the curly black strands trail through his fingers. His blunt nails dug into his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. He tangled his hand in his hair and pulled hard. He wished it was another, wider hand gripping his hair, guiding his head into the best position to kiss, baring his neck to leave marks claiming Keiji for himself.

His other hand trailed down over his flat stomach, following the line of hair there with his fingertips and down to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Bokuto would love kissing him there, leaving marks and scraping his nails down the soft flesh. He'd drive Keiji crazy; so close to his dick but refusing to touch it, tormenting Keiji but denying him his pleasure.

Keiji finally let himself grasp his dick, gasping at the jolt of sensation that ran through his body. He stroked up and down, using only his fingertips to tease himself, each stroke sending sparks through his blood. The haze of arousal settled over him, weighing him down and narrowing his attention to the pleasure humming through his body. Nothing else existed at that time; just him and his imagination.

Rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock made him groan, one leg kicking out in protest. He smeared the precome gathering at the head down over his cock, making his strokes smoother and preventing his callouses from catching as much. He wouldn't mind if it was Bokuto stroking him, staring down at him with a grin and his golden eyes flashing. Bokuto would know exactly how to touch him; reading the gasps and groans and the way Keiji writhed beneath him.

Keiji arched into that imaginary touch, rocking himself into his fist to increase the friction. He was panting now, quiet moans pulled out of him with every buck of his hips.

His free hand ran up and down his body, tracing the inside of his thighs, pressing into his stomach, tangling in his hair. He wanted to feel Bokuto's weight pushing him into the mattress, those muscles sliding over his body and tantalising all his senses. That close, Bokuto's favourite deodorant would mingle with the sweat and sex in the air. He'd wear the evidence of Bokuto's possession on his skin, for as long as the scent lingered.

His whole body felt superheated; a flush covering his cheeks and running down his chest. His pale skin always showed blushes easily. His breath came faster, trying to keep up with his racing heart. All the sounds he was making seemed echoed, falling into the quiet of his room.

Would Bokuto be noisy, grunting and groaning atop Keiji? Or would he be quiet; eyes lidded in that fierce gaze Bokuto got when he was intensely focused, too busy trying to draw more reactions out of Keiji to make noise. Maybe Keiji would be the louder one, his usual reservation shattered by the sensations Bokuto pulled from his body.

Keiji bit down hard on his lips, letting the sharp pain mingle with the heat in his blood, before running his tongue over them. He liked mixing the two; a little bit of pain only served to heighten his arousal. He wanted Bokuto to bite his lips, dig his fingers into Keiji's hips and scratch furrows into his back. But he didn't know what Bokuto liked, might never get the opportunity to find out. He was sure Bokuto would take what he wanted though, licking into Keiji's mouth with abandon and kissing him so hard they forgot how to breathe.

He wanted it so badly. But to admit that to Bokuto could ruin their friendship and their team dynamic, and Keiji couldn't lose that. The volleyball team was everything to him. _Bokuto_ was everything to him.

Keiji moved his hand faster, twisting slightly when he reached the head. Bokuto's name threatened to burst from his lips with every stroke. Keiji choked it back, focusing instead on the imaginary Bokuto whispering praise; murmuring how good he looked, how much he liked the soft moans Keiji kept making.

His motions fell out of rhythm, his hips stuttering as the waves of pleasure tipped him over the edge. His back arched; muscles tensing and his head falling back. With a shudder and a groan, his vision flashing, Keiji came over his hand, splatters of come landing on his stomach.

Finally spent, he collapsed back, his muscles slowly unclenching. He was content to bask in the afterglow; feeling relaxed and glad the restlessness of before was gone.

For a while he just lay there, his breathing evening out and his heart rate returning to normal.

He couldn't lie in a daze forever though, and the come drying on him made him feel disgusted with himself. It was proof of his actions, the way he crossed a line friends weren't supposed to cross.

Keiji sighed and stood up to grab his shirt from the floor, using it to wipe himself off. When he was done, he rolled it into a ball and dumped it in his laundry basket, covering it with other clothes and making a note to take care of that soon.

He threw on some pants and grabbed the shirt he kept hidden in the bottom of his closet. It was one of Bokuto's, stolen from the last time Keiji had slept over his house. This particular one was soft and too big for Keiji, slipping off one shoulder and coming down to the top of his thighs. Like a lot of Bokuto's shirts, it had a cartoon owl on it. This one just said 'Owlways cute', and the owl had a heart in the centre of the design.

Keiji exchanged the shirts every time he was there, just so he could wrap himself in Bokuto's scent at night and pretend it was his embrace. Bokuto had mentioned once that he thought he had a laundry fairy, since his shirts kept going mysteriously missing and then turning up a few days later, clean and fresh smelling. He'd never made the connection between losing his shirts and Keiji's visits.

Climbing into bed, he pulled Bokuto's shirt up over his nose, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent.

The guilt crashed over him, and he clenched his hands into fists in Bokuto's shirt. Why did he keep using Bokuto for this? It was always the same. He'd jerk off and then feel guilty about it. _But he didn't stop doing it._

Surely there had to be a better option. Porn mags or the internet, or something. But every time he tried, his thoughts always came back to Bokuto. Somehow, Bokuto had slipped inside Keiji's very soul with his _hey hey heys_ and the way his eyes lit up when Keiji volunteered to toss to him.

Had it been anyone else, Keiji would have been petrified, building walls to keep them away. But Bokuto was Bokuto; an uncontrollable whirlwind of energy and sunshine, bringing light and happiness to anyone who crossed his path. Keiji was no exception. Or maybe he was the most susceptible.Bokuto was the perfect counterpoint to Keiji's quiet reservation and sarcastic humour, the perfect person to complement his personality and play style. Together, they could accomplish anything.

And that was why Keiji should stop this. He risked falling too deep. Jerking off to Bokuto filled his head with pleasant thoughts for a while, but he always hated himself afterwards.

His phone beeped from its position on his bedside table. Keiji grabbed it and flipped it open, a pang of guilt stabbing him in the stomach.

_1 new message; Bokuto Koutarou_

There was no way Bokuto could know what he'd just done, yet Keiji still worried. Why did he chose this exact moment to text? Keiji held his breath and opened the message.

_**Bokuto Koutarou:** Akaashi!!! what do u call an owl caught in the act???_

Keiji's heart nearly stopped, and he was about to type in a response begging Bokuto not to hate him, not to throw him aside when Bokuto's answer came through.

_**Bokuto Koutarou:** Spotted!!! :D  
**Bokuto Koutarou:** Get it? Because Spotted Owls!_

Keiji deflated, gulping in a breath and shaking his head. He could imagine Bokuto howling with laughter at such a stupid joke, slapping a hand against his thigh. The image brought a small smile to Keiji's face, and relieved, he typed back a response.

_**Akaashi Keiji:** Haha, Bokuto-san._

_**Akaashi Keiji:** My turn. What do you get when you cross an owl and an oyster?_

_**Bokuto Koutarou:**???? omg Akaashi you have to tell me._

He waited a moment, smirking to himself, before sending the answer.

_**Akaashi Keiji:** Pearls of Wisdom._

_**Bokuto Koutarou:** Akaashi!!!! That was so good!! :D :D :D :D_

Keiji chuckled to himself, drawing his sheets up to his chin and resting his head on his pillow. Bokuto's cheeriness shone through even in his messages, and it calmed Keiji to read them. The guilt faded away, leaving him drained and sleepy. He did everything he could to keep Bokuto's moods up and out of dejected mode. Bokuto just seemed to instinctively know how to cheer Keiji up.

Keiji typed out another joke and pressed send.

His imaginary Bokuto was nice. But it was never as good as the real thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is my first fic on here! Hope you like it. There might be a part two and three, if i find time to write them. 
> 
> Feel free to comment and talk to me, or just scream about bokuaka and pining Keiji I'm in for this.  
> If you pick up any typos let me know I'll fix them.
> 
> Now officially part one of the series, so stay tuned for part two. :)  
> Thank you to those wonderful people who left me comments and kudos I'm so surprised this has gotten attention like? I didn't think it was really worth posting but people seem to like it. Thanks so much! <3


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